


Solid Matter

by FallacyFallacy



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Bisexual Character, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Queer Themes, Sickfic, Temperature Play, handjob, mild breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose gets sick and Dave takes care of her. And if it's all a little fucked up, well, at least they're fucked up together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solid Matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SomeCrazyGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SomeCrazyGirl).



> S-sorry, the length got a little away from me...I hope that's okay!
> 
> At any rate, happy Sweep's Eve! :D
> 
> This fic was also written as a fill to [this prompt](http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/38671.html?thread=40842767#cmt40842767) at the Homestuck kink meme: _Dave/Rose, One of the two catches a cold, one mostly in the nose with sniffles and sneezing all the goddamn time. The other cares for them, turned on by the whole thing. Eventually, this gets noticed, and they have sneezy awkward sex. (In the end, they're both sick, of course.)_

Rose blinks, and then blinks again. She breathes in slowly, attempting to irritate as little as possible the sensitive bumps that seem to form the majority of the surface area of her throat. She steadies herself unnecessarily, leaning in slightly closer to the book in front of her.

Researching isn't easy. Although she's sure the others see it that way, it isn't at all a matter of just opening one up and tuning her attention in its direction and then, after a satisfactory number of hours, resurfacing. It is no passive feat, no lying back and thinking of nothing. There are connections to be made, and loopholes to be spied, and leaps of logic to be made, all quantified and compartmentalised and sorted into pretty, helpful little columns on her piece of parchment. (Which, while more romantic, is actually kind of fucking hard to work with, sometimes.) More than that, the texts are opaque even by Rose's standards. It's such a terrible mix of old-fashioned language and complicated computational vocabulary (Karkat tried to help her out with it once, a memory she, as always, firmly pushes out of her mind as quickly as possible) and even, on rare if memorable occasions, Alternian, all combined into an unpleasant slurry like someone put a hamburger in a blender.

Kanaya is away, as usual for this time of the day (with an imaginative definition of the word 'day', of course), a fact of which Rose is both disappointed and relieved. They are friends, still, but there's just a slight hum of awkwardness in their interaction now that Rose would normally take in her stride as just one more of the many complex and fascinating facets of human interaction but which now would just seem to vibrate irritatingly against her already sensitive head. Besides, she has spent noticeably less time helping Rose with her research since they separated, a fact which leads Rose to wonder whether she hadn't had multiple motives for helping her in the first place. She doesn't blame her – though if true, her patience is even more mind-boggling than Rose was at first prepared to consider. All things considered, it is perfectly understandable, and Rose holds no bitterness.

She closes her eyes briefly, forcing herself to take in the words. That was the first thing she learned to nip in the bud – the running off of her thoughts like gaily gambolling puppies chasing after the first colorful butterfly they set their eyes on – and it's more than a little irritating to have to correct for it again.

“You look terrible.”

Rose sighs, tightening her fingers on the table. “I do apologise for the lack of appropriate response – I assume you have spent enough time in my presence that it will not be too much of an ask to suggest that you think up your own suitably poetic way of phrasing 'so does your face' – but I am actually kind of busy right now.”

Dave pauses. Rose refuses to turn around, but she can see him in her mind's eye, leaning against the doorframe with a nonchalance that, from years of deliberate posing, has at some point become almost natural. 

“No seriously. You look half asleep. Why not just go to bed already?”

Rose purses her lips. “Unfortunately, that is not possible.” She turns, shaking her head slightly, the feel of hair against her cheek just one more thing making her fingers tighten on her sleeve. “We're getting closer. The message is coming more frequently, now – talk to the new players. Since that isn't something we're capable of yet, I can only presume this means we will be able to do so in the near future. I'd rather we be as informed as possible before then.”

“Why? Timeframe's still pretty much the same, isn't it? As long as we know what we're doing by the time we get to the new earth, what difference does it make how impressed they all are by our amazing ability to read a bunch of books and write pages on pages of flowery apocalypse rubbish? Or non-apocalypse. What's the opposite of an apocalypse?”

“It may amaze you to hear, but it's actually a little bit more difficult than that.” She grits her teeth – there it goes again. Pain. Wonderful – she can fly around and face against beings of godlike status and dissect the rules of reality itself, and yet a little headache is still enough to turn a simple conversation with her brother into an ordeal.

Dave watches her closely, the movement of his forehead revealing plainly whatever his sunglasses could conceal. “Yeah and that's exactly why you're not gonna be of any help to anyone right now. Come on, an extra hour of sleep isn't gonna kill anyone deader than they already are.”

Rose turns around, fully prepared to ignore his warnings, but when five seconds passes and her eyes still aren't able to focus on the words in the book in front of her she gives up.

“Fine. I bow to your expertise, doctor Strider.”

“Uh huh.”

She instantly riles in defence, and then feels foolishly stubborn. Fuck, she really needs to go to bed. She sniffs, carefully walking past him, trying to move as efficiently as possible.

“You look sick.”

Rose glances beside her. “Once again, you prove yourself worthy of that phD. Clearly, those five years were not spent in vain.”

“Yeah, yeah, I sat the basic classes. Got the main gist – sick people bad, healthy people good. Glad to see you recognise my qualifications there.”

“I'm going to bed. What more do you want?”

“Nothing.” Dave shrugs, and Rose isn't sure whether to be more annoyed that he seems to be interpreting her sickness-induced snippishness in the intent it was made in. “Just not really all that sure how it works. I mean, doesn't it normally require other people to like, spread it to you? Or something?”

“I don't know – maybe it's a magical virus that got stuck to the pages of a book for some reason and stayed there for millenia until I picked it up just then.”

“Huh,” Dave says, and Rose isn't sure how to feel that in retrospect, that's probably actually true.

“Welp, here we are. Sorry babe, I'll have to leave off on the goodnight kiss tonight – can't miss my final exams tomorrow or my parents will be so ashamed.”

“Are you still going on about that?”

“Sick people bad, healthy people good. I think I've got it.”

Rose shakes her head, pushing through the door to her room and gingerly lying down on the bed. And yet despite herself, as she tries to ignore the pain enough to fall asleep, when she remembers the conversation, she can't help but smile a little.

*

By the time Rose wakes enough for consciousness to grace her with its presence, she has already been rolling around in her bed trying to find a comfortable position for an indefinite length of time. She swallows, whole body shaking in wince at the unexpected pain and terrible taste. The sensation lasts just long enough for her headache to flicker away briefly, only to return in full force, a pounding just above her eyes that makes Rose clench her fists hard enough that her nails dig into her palm. She breathes out heavily, through her mouth – and now she remembers the long hours (were they hours? They felt like hours) she had spent the night before trying to figure out a way to breathe that allowed her to sleep.

Her body relaxes, even from its already prone state, but then she sneezes, and then again, her nose gross and terrible. She awkwardly maneuvers into a sitting position, holding a hand over her face, feeling the sting of cold and ache pushing through her legs and making her shiver.

Well, fuck.

Rose purses her lips, considering her options. She probably could go back to work now... but the wave of disagreement that flows through her when she thinks that rejects that idea quickly enough. She is fucking tired and fucking sick and she didn't want to go and spend hours reading ridiculous, pointless books she doesn't even need to just so she can show off to some people she doesn't even really know anyway. What she does want to do is a different matter – 'stop feeling terrible' is winning out by a longshot, but when she tries to come up with a more practical plan all she can manage is 'go back to sleep and also my head stops working so I can actually sleep' which isn't much better.

Her brain isn't working properly. It'd be terrifying if she had the energy to care about such things now.

Her arm, on which she is leaning, is shaking rather worryingly. Rose takes it to her waist and hunches over, wincing when the movement causes her head to start pounding again. She feels tired not just from lack of sleep but from simple lack of energy and even the thought of getting out of bed feels like too much work.

She sneezes again, and ugh. Rose drops her head, holding her hand to her nose tighter. Well, fuck.

Slowly, so slowly, she uses her hand to pull back the last of the blanket she had apparently pulled over her when the comforter became too hot but sleeping without anything on top of her felt too weird. Even just pushing this aside feels like an effort, a slightly twinge of pain shooting down her forearm.

She's still wearing her Seer outfit. It's hot and stifling and the tights cling uncomfortably to her legs. But despite how hot she feels, they are totally clean and sweat-free, which Rose reluctantly admits is probably a good thing. She gradually swings her feet to the side of the bed, hesitating before touching the ground – as she expected, when she places them down the floor is cold, too cold, against her overheated and sensitive skin.

For a minute or so she sits there, breathing loudly and unpleasantly through her mouth. She knows she has to stand up eventually but her motivation to do it at this exact moment is drastically low. She blinks her eyes, wincing at the light and the way her nose has scrunched up and made them watery, trying to see in front of her.

She must admit that this is all a little bit new to her. What colds she had in the past had generally been of the sort that involved having a runny nose for a few days and a cough for a few more and nothing else. Not that she should expect a magical virus, if that indeed is what it is, to obey normal rules anyway, which is a worrying thought. But even aside from this Rose has been, on the whole, remarkably disease-free. Her mother, being both desperate to prove her love (for reasons Rose cannot fucking be bothered to obsess over right now) and possessing of admirable trust in science, had of course vaccinated her with anything that might at all ever reach her, while at the same time enrolling Rose only in the most selective of schools, apart from choosing to live in a house isolated in the woods. She apparently had chicken pox when she was young, and of course there is always the occasional menstrual period that has her feeling murderous not for reasons of hormones but because her uterus has apparently decided to cannibalise her insides, but this kind of illness – the sort that is undignified and painful and unpleasant without even managing to be romantically life-threatening, the kind that responds to nothing more than simply waiting it out – is mostly new to her. 

It fucking sucks.

Finally, she gathers up her energy, gingerly pushing herself into a standing position. Her limbs feel tired and achey, her outfit bulky and too warm. She shuffles towards the door, peeking out.

She really, really doesn't want to see anyone. She looks terrible and feels terrible and would really just rather not deal with the whole rigmarole of pity right now. With Karkat and Terezi, at least, she can trust that they won't understand what's going on enough for the meeting to be too unpleasant, but there's pretty much no way Kanaya wouldn't attempt something faintly patronisingly motherly or Dave wouldn't bully her into letting him try to take care of her.

The coast seems clear so Rose strides forwards as quickly as she feels able, making her way to her working room. Luckily, with paper on hand, tissues were a very simple alchemisation process and there should be plenty on hand.

“You look like shit.”

Rose grits her teeth. Karkat stands at the other end of the corridor, apparently passing through and having spied her when he turned the corner. “That is a very helpful, not to mention original, observation. I applaud the clearly great amount of thought that went into the phrasing of your statement.”

Karkat squints at her, undeterred as usual. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you sick or something? Or-” He narrows his eyes in grave suspicion. “Is this another one of your bulge-munchingly terrible human puberty things?”

“Sure,” Rose mutters, starting to walk again.

“Oh my god, seriously? That's seriously not done yet? What even the fuck, you humans don't even live that long! Jesus fucking christ, ugh.” Karkat glares at her as though she is the sole cause of all problems he has ever been personally faced with which is, admittedly, the way he always glares. “So fucking disgusting it makes me want to rip my own eyes and nose out just so I never have to experience any of it ever again. I can't believe past me actually considered dating one of you! Once again my own past idiocy spews results, 'cause if I'd been forced to go throw that from a closer vantage point I'd probably have ultimately ended up vomiting up on all of you.”

“Thank you for that, Karkat. You are certainly doing a most wonderful job proving trolls the less unpleasant of the two species.”

Karkat doesn't respond immediately. Rose pauses at the door, already regretting her hesitation.

“Jeez, just fucking go to bed already, won't you? That's what humans do when they get sick, right?”

“I assure you that that is my plan. Right after I retrieve something.”

Karkat nods in odd satisfaction. “Good.” Then he pauses again, looking awkward, before throwing his hands into the air. “Whatever. I don't even know why we even bothered to have this conversation.”

“Conversation? You accosted me, complaining that humans were disgusting and then demanded I go to bed. Any comments on my part could only be considered the linguistic form of self-defence.”

“What the fuck ever.” Finally Karkat leaves, feet stomping down the corridor out of sight.

Rose shakes her head, opening the door. There, on the table – a little box, surrounded by a little knitted covering she made during one of those early few months when lack of activity drove her to nearly continuous knitting. She takes it, then pauses at one of the bookshelves. Something light, clearly, she thinks, self-consciously retrieving a couple that she may or may not have either pilfered from Karkat or alchemised herself.

She spots one – right in the back, covered in dust – and hesitates. There's been something bothering her lately, in the back of her mind. Something about puberty and trolls and humans and herself. Something that brushes up against a thing that she Does Not Acknowledge, but one that is slowly morphing more and more into a beast of its own the longer she ignores it, hideous and pulsing. Pursing her lips, she takes the book, returning and swiftly as possible to her room.

There, she drops her cargo, finally seeing to her nose. It feels sensitive already – god knows what it'll be soon.

But for now, it's not too difficult to empty her mind of any nagging thoughts. Because she really actually is fucking tired, and even with her headache and breathing being what they are, it only takes a couple of moments for her to fall asleep.

*

When Rose wakes up again, her first coherent thought is 'I should probably get something to eat and drink soon.'

Her second thought is 'fuck that.'

Thankfully, the headache has subsided slightly. It's still extremely irritating, but at least any attempt to distract herself from it will not feel like a foregone conclusion any longer. She reaches for one of her books at random, flicking to some page.

It's in Alternian – right, of course. It's not a huge obstruction. It was only a month into their voyage when Rose had requested Kanaya teach her to read formal Alternian. She expected the process to be long and time-consuming and involving all kinds of interesting exotic linguistics, but to her disappointment formal Alternian turned out to be a simple cypher for casual Alternian. Or, thanks to some forward-thinking troll who realised it would be a good idea if they could communicate with some of the inhabitants of the planet they were creating, English. Or effectively so, bar necessary differences based on culture and technology. However, although Rose is pretty familiar with the symbols right now, she doesn't find herself reading them too often and it all requires just a bit more concentration to read than English.

Oh, well.

Reading Alternian books is weird. There's a whole cultural context here that Rose isn't privy to – tropes and genres and sayings and weird little ways of understanding the world that Rose felt superior to for all of five seconds before she remembered some of the stupid things humans back on Earth used to believe even in the 21st century. Sometimes it translates – trolls, it seem, still have horoscopes and like to anthromorphize concepts and celebrate roughly Western-esque holidays – and sometimes, such as when Rose got halfway through a book about troll-shaped sea monsters before she realized they were considered romantic icons on par with werewolves on Earth, it doesn't, and the overall feel is of eavesdropping on a half-finished conversation between strangers and trying to figure out what they're talking about as you go along.

But one of the weirdest things about it is the gender and sexuality politics. Every now and then she comes across a troll who goes evil when her female matesprit is killed or sees a male troll leave an unhealthy and dangerous relationship with a male kismesis for a better one with a female or something along those lines and instinctively her hackles raise, her brain already cycling through the arguments. And then the moment passes and Rose is left staring down at the book feeling kind of stupid.

Sure, among all the horrible things trolls did discriminate about, it's still nice to see that a society like that can actually exist – the troll world did, as far as she can tell, just plain not even consider gender or sexuality to be things at all. For while trolls with breasts did tend to have longer hair and wear skirts and have slightly different interests, and some trolls do indeed have preferences for one gender over the other, those things seemed to have had no further meaning to trolls. They just were. 

There's more to it, though, for reasons that move beyond the obvious fact that, while trolls may not have judged one another based on gender or orientation, they certainly weren't lacking for other reasons to do so. Reading the stories makes Rose feel strangely unsatisfied.

She remembers the passion she felt when she was thirteen, reading blog posts and writing furious, strident comments in agreement and argument, writing messages into her fanfics that might have been over the top but were at least _right_ , and spending long boring drives righteously winning conversations between bigoted idiots. Her anger was totally misplaced, of course, and Rose winces in retrospect of all the many things she got badly wrong. But it gave her a purpose – made her feel part of something bigger than herself, something she could join just by doing what she did best: thinking and writing.

She's done more than that, now. But now – tearing away from a universe they destroyed and a session she ruined – she can't say so certainly that she's done right.

And yet despite the fact that, compared to the fate of multiple universes, a couple of harmful cultural assumptions of one society in one era on one planet can't by any stretch of the imagination be considered important, Rose can't quite forget about it.

It wasn't just any culture, or any era, or any planet. It was hers, and it was because of it that she became who she is today.

And it's gone. While her friends aren't by any means perfect, they are certainly far more enlightened than the people she was fighting against, and correcting their minor slips of the tongue hardly seems like the same righteous crusade against ignorance. More than that, the people she'd defending are gone. She doesn't know about the new players, and it isn't entirely impossible that John or Jade were late bloomers, but as far as statistics go, there is a very real possibility that Rose is the last queer human being in existence.

And against all odds, even here Rose isn't one hundred percent certain.

Rose sighs, putting a hand over her eyes. She really, really hates this. Annoyed at her irritation being misplaced, she instead turned it on herself, leaving nothing achieved except a sulky mood. Right, when you're done moaning over the fact that there isn't any gendered oppression going on anymore you can go do something actually helpful. Oh, wait, you can't – you're stuck doing nothing but reading for three years on this fucking ship and you can't even do that right now because guess what – you're sick!

Rose groans, closing the book and replacing it on the bedside table, turning off the light and trying to sleep again.

She really, really hates this.

*

“Yo.”

Rose glances up – Dave stands in the doorway, head cocked just a little.

“You doing ok?”

Rose sighs, taking a scrap of paper from her nightstand to use as a bookmark and holding the book on her lap. “Fine. I'll probably have this all over with by tomorrow.”

Dave stares. Rose purses her lips.

“Today hasn't been the most pleasant day I've experienced, but it doesn't seem to be serious. Just a cold.”

“Yeah, but colds can be pretty terrible.”

He wanders over, taking stock of her room. Rose feels her cheeks going oddly hot. They've spent more time together than Rose ever would have thought possible in the last two and a half years – some of which was, out of necessity of living together, spent learning unfortunate details about each other's daily routines and hygiene practices – but here, sick, and in this weird little mood Rose has felt fringing her mind for a month or two now, Rose irrationally just wants him to leave and not have to see her like this.

“So you walk towards the infection. That's very sensible. I see your point.”

Dave ignores her. He glances towards the books on her stand and smirks. Rose straightens a little, indignantly.

“Yes?”

“Nothin'.” He shakes his head a little.

“You're right – they're stupid. And unrealistic, and self-indulgent, and badly-written, more often than not. I fail to see how that makes them any more different than your terrible movies.”

“Chill, Rose. Jesus, I'm not gonna get all superior over someone reading something escapist while they're stuck in bed.” A slight smile curls at the edge of Dave's mouth. “I was just remembering the first time I saw you reading one. Really surprised me, for some reason.”

“Really?” Rose deflates a little, studying Dave. “Why?”

He shrugs. “No idea. It's basically fanfiction, right?” He chuckles suddenly. “Heh, remember when Karkat found out and tried to have like a legit discussion with you about it?”

Rose smirks a little, settling comfortably against her pillow. “Oh, yes.”

“When you said that thing about not getting why they stayed 'only moirails' even though they got along so well I thought his head was going to pop off.”

Rose remembers. If she hadn't stopped him, she's quite certain he would have ranted about how humans had no fucking respect for the pale quadrant and how moirallegiance was not the same as friendship, what the fuck, was she a shitting idiot or something, for hours. “Mmhmm.”

“I don't know how you do it.” He shakes his head, looking actually kind of impressed and Rose allows herself to feel a little good about that. “Whenever I try to do shit like that, our things always just end up...weird.”

“...weird?” Rose feels her mind jolt, lagging in the face of her headache and distracted by the occasional sense of wooziness but sharp as ever deep down. “Weird...how?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Not like _that _. Just... IDK. Weird.”__

__“No, no, tell me more. I'm interested.”_ _

__“Right, like I have to give you even _more_ material for your notes.”_ _

__“That is true – you are successful enough at dispensing intriguing statements even without deliberately setting out to.”_ _

__Dave gives a short grunt of laughter and then looks around again._ _

__“Mind if I stick with you, then?”_ _

__Rose raises an eyebrow. “Why?”_ _

__Dave sighs. “Come on, miss psychoanalyst. I'm sure you can come up with something.”_ _

__Rose narrows her eyes. Dave is giving her a doubtful look, and the fact that she isn't actually sure what response he's expecting is quite unnerving._ _

__“Um, because you're my sister, maybe?” He says after a moment, as though he can tell she won't figure it out, and that just makes her feel even worse._ _

__“Oh. Well, obviously.”_ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__“You'll get sick.”_ _

__Dave shrugs. “Maybe not. Magic sickness and all. And even if I do – well, better together than alone, right?”_ _

__Rose feels herself draw back, uncertain. Is this what Dave would expect her to do for him? Worse, does he think she wouldn't do that for him? This seems excessively nice to her, but perhaps she has made a miscalculation. Or is this just the state of their relationship in Dave's eyes?_ _

__“Thanks,” she says, but she sort of wishes he would just go away and stop making her feel like a terrible friend._ _

__He watches her for a few moments and she wonders, with perhaps an overabundance of worry, whether he can tell what she was thinking._ _

__“It's your birthday in three days, too.”_ _

__“...ah.” Rose blinks, glancing away. “I see.”_ _

__Dave rubs the back of his neck. “Forgot, huh?”_ _

__“It seems so.”_ _

__“Welp, it wouldn't be all that great if you were sick for your birthday. I figure being around to take the edge off is the least I can do.”_ _

__“Even if it means you'll be sick for your birthday?”_ _

__“Yep.”_ _

__Rose stares at him. She likes to think she knows Dave very well by now – better than anyone else, probably, though that's definitely a weird thought – but every now and then he does something that doesn't quite fit into her mental model. There's a mini alarm ringing in the back of her mind, one she set up somehow years ago and never quite manages to turn off, that is telling her that there's something more to this situation than he's letting on. And then she remembers that he didn't even think she'd guess that he might want to be taking care of her because she's his sister and she feels pretty awful for even thinking it._ _

__“...are you sure your moirail will be okay with this? Taking care of someone who's sick – it all sounds awfully pale. I had no idea you felt that way about me.”_ _

__Dave rolls his eyes. “There's a bit more to it than that. Specifically, the whole 'calming violent impulses' thing. Which I don't think I could ever manage for you, so. Plus, jealousy also counts as an impulse, so conveniently enough I'm perfectly placed to be stemming it.”_ _

__“Are you sure? I don't want to find myself in chains tomorrow morning on the charge of pale infidelity.”_ _

__“Nah, the punishment for that is way higher. Huge tabboo we're talkin' about, here.” He snorts. “Relax. Me and Terezi wouldn't even be in this thing if I weren't making concessions to her heritage. Believe it or not, she actually is willing to go the other way, too.”_ _

__Rose nods._ _

__“So is that a yes?”_ _

__Rose sighs. “Was there ever really an option for me to say no?”_ _

__Dave smiles, an expression oddly honest for him. “Nope.”_ _

__*_ _

__Dave returns with stacks of DVDs bundled up in his arms._ _

__“An impressive array.”_ _

__“I'd have a look at them before making any judgments.” He drops them with a clatter on Rose's bedside table, some of them falling or knocking books to the floor. Rose gives him a perfunctory disapproving look but then turns her gaze to the movies._ _

__They're...well, very very weird. She doesn't recognise any of them at all, and while some look realistic enough, most of them come across like the result of a person dared to make an entire movie about two or three ridiculous subjects._ _

__“'The T-shirts of Forbidden Passion,'” Rose reads, voice frank with disbelieving wonder as she looked over the anthromorphised clothing pieces locked in a fierce embrace on the cover._ _

__“Yeah. Thought I might be able to get movies by swiping discs from Karkat and combining them with other stuff, but the alchemiter is pretty literal.”_ _

__“I can see,” Rose says, voice filled with joy for which she has not words as she picks up a case entitled Will You Still Love Me When My Pot Plant Dies?_ _

__“I did kinda manage a couple of real ones, but they're still pretty random,” he says with barely hidden amusement, showing her the case for what looked like a low-budget sci-fi movie revolving around evil rabbits._ _

__“This is beautiful,” Rose breathes. “Why did you never tell me of this before?”_ _

__“Eh, was just kinda disappointed?” Dave crosses his arms, looking at the movies and shrugging. “Yeah, they're pretty amazing, but the fad wears off after a while. And I really was trying to like...I don't know. Preserve earth culture or some shit? I dunno, it was pretty stupid – all the movies I was trying to replicate were terrible anyway.”_ _

__Rose spies something, her good mood fading. She can only see the corner – it must have been at the bottom of the pile – but she fishes it out._ _

__Dave is quiet._ _

__“'Con Air'?”_ _

__Dave shrugs, his stoicism from a minute before hardening further, then softening. He sighs, nodding, and sits on the edge of her bed._ _

__“Yeah. Took me a while, that one. It was pretty stubborn.”_ _

__Rose's thumb traces slowly over the plastic. “You really miss him.”_ _

__“Yeah. Jade, too.” From this angle Rose can see just behind his shades – he's looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “And you don't?”_ _

__Rose looks away, her hands twisting subconsciously on her lap. “I try not to think about it.”_ _

__“I couldn't do that.”_ _

__Dave scratches at his neck and an uncomfortable silence descends. They don't really discuss serious things very often. They're both well aware they neither enjoys it and with no outside forces to push them into it, why would they? It's been growing even less common lately now that Dave has Terezi – apparently, talking things over is the province of the moirail. Even after Rose and Kanaya broke up Rose never really sat down and talked with him about it._ _

__Sometimes she's grateful, and sometimes she isn't so sure._ _

__“I guess I just worry,” Dave says quietly, and when Rose looks up she's relieved to see that Dave has turned his eye away from her. “I mean. Three years is a pretty damn long time.”_ _

__Rose remains silent._ _

__“Just...what if they change, y'know? We were only thirteen when we separated. People can change a lot around that time. What if we meet up again and they're like different people?”_ _

__“I don't think that will happen,” Rose says, but without certainty._ _

__“Have I changed?” He turns to her again, mouth a firm line._ _

__Dave has changed. She's paid close attention to it, well aware of the effect by which people barely notice small alterations because each difference isn't really significantly different to what it was before, until over time the changes build up so much the resulting image is totally different. She, in fact, made a conscious effort to avoid that, lonely and scared of the long dark years ahead when they first started their journey. And so she saved up every little image she could, every little habit, every little tendency, saving them like photographs and collecting them in a shoebox at the back of her mind, carefully taking them out and ordering them chronologically in quiet moments._ _

__He's changed physically, of course, most of all. His voice broke and deepened, became low and rumbly, a strangely grown-up sound that Rose still hasn't quite gotten used to. He grew taller, became more broad-shouldered, eventually started to shave. It was a strange sight when compared with the trolls' maturity – Dave's hair and oily skin and forming muscles attractively human when compared to the cold roughness and smoothness of troll anatomy, and yet the culturally-induced gender dichotomy somehow made his changes seem a bigger contrast to Rose's growing hips and breasts. She dwelt upon it, dissecting her thoughts and pronouncing a lack of human company causing her to fixate on the only other of her kind nearby, especially while he was going through such a very human process. And certainly, with all the firing of hormones that comes with puberty, it was only natural that her senses would be confused. It's kind of gross, all things considered, but in a different way to when Kanaya had been secreting that strange slime for a month or two, or when outer layers of her horns began to peel off. It's gross in a familiar way – too familiar – and Rose can only seem to vacillate wildly between whether it's pleasant or not._ _

__But he's changed in other ways as well. A bit more open, a bit less concerned with looking cool – well, it's not like there's anyone around to impress. A bit more willing to do what it takes to help other people out, and also a bit more liable to not realise when his help and sacrifice isn't really needed. A bit less likely to go off onto rambling tangents, though pushing him into it is still easy enough. A bit more thoughtful. A bit more self-aware._ _

__The shades stay, still. Rose has probably written pages and pages of mental analysis on why, as he no longer bothers nearly so much to conceal his expression. Her current opinion is that it sits as a tribute, a reminder. Though to what, she does not know – John? His bro? His past life? Maybe all three._ _

__The Dave before her is subtly different to the Dave she knew two and a half years ago, who is subtly different to the Dave from before the game. The differences are not huge, but then again, the differences between the Daves never was._ _

__Sometimes, Rose wonders whether she has changed. Now, caught up in overthinking and romance novels and sexuality and Dave, she thinks not._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“...in a good way?”_ _

__Rose stares at him. She has no response to that._ _

__But Dave persists, waiting for an answer._ _

__In the end, there's only one thing Rose can think to say. “You've grown up.”_ _

__Dave nods slowly, seeming to understand. “You've changed, too,” he adds._ _

__“Oh.” There was a time a few months ago when she would have agreed – when she was happy and fun and was trying new things and everything was going well. But then she realised that all of that was just her trying to get away from her responsibilities, and it all fell apart, and now it seems like a painfully obvious passing phase in retrospect. “How?”_ _

__Dave thinks, then shrugs. “Dunno. Can't put it into words.”_ _

__Rose frowns, and for the first time since they started this train of thought, Dave smiles. “Sorry. Guess I don't really pay much attention to stuff like that.”_ _

__“You were just wondering whether John and Jade had changed.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Dave says thoughtfully. “I guess since I'm used to having you near me I don't think about you like that?”_ _

__Rose shifts, sneezing rather forcefully into a tissue. Dave ignores her. “Should I be flattered or insulted?” Rose asks eventually._ _

__“...well.” Dave moves his shoulders oddly. “I guess you could think that I appreciate you being around me?”_ _

__“Except that we're together because of circumstance more than anything else.”_ _

__“Do you really think that?” Dave asks, sounding oddly hurt._ _

__“I meant, the fact that the two of us are here and John and Jade are elsewhere.”_ _

__Dave hums non-committally at that, his expression unchanging._ _

__“Well, I think that was enough feelingsy shit for now,” he says, slapping his palms on his knees all of a sudden and taking a disc. “'Red Towel Cruise' sound right to you?”_ _

__“Sure,” Rose agrees, watching as Dave takes the television and DVD player out of his sylladex and sets it up._ _

__She feels weirdly girly right now, waiting while her brother sets up the technology for her, as much as she immediately corrects herself for correlating weakness with femininity. Dave is hardly the most masculine of men normally, but there are tropes, Rose reasons. There are always tropes, all over the damn place._ _

__The movie is entertaining enough, though after twenty minutes or so her headache returns at full force and her skin feels hot and uncomfortable and the embarrassment of the idea isn't enough to keep her from falling asleep._ _

__*_ _

__When Rose next reaches consciousness, the illness is in full swing. She twists over, curling automatically into a fetal position that only disturbs her stomach further, and then curving back again, rubbing her foot back and forth over her other ankle in an attempt to distract herself from the pain._ _

__God, everything feels so fucking hot. Sweat trickles uncomfortably down her neck, her breathing difficult._ _

__“Need anything?”_ _

__Rose shakes her head, fingers gripping and then relaxing on the sheets. Beyond the litany of 'please stop please stop please stop' comes one coherent though:_ _

___He's still here?_ _ _

__From there, though, her memories get fuzzy, and while it no doubt took a long time for her to fall asleep, at least she doesn't have to remember it in afterwards._ _

__*_ _

__When Rose next wakes up, it takes a long, long time for her senses to return. Groggily, she rubs her eyes, breathing awkwardly through her mouth. Everything is dark and weirdly outside of time – she has no idea how long she's slept or what time it is, but she is also faintly aware that it doesn't really matter when she eventually gets up, either._ _

__Flashes of images flow through her – she must have visited a bunch of different dream bubbles in her sleep, though the memories are fuzzy now. She can remember speaking with an illusionary Jade about a movie they were looking forward to, and meeting up with Meenah again briefly, and spending about ten minutes in a dream bubble with Dave before she realised she was still asleep. That was early on, she thinks, and the dream ended as soon as she realised that it was fake, so she wonders whether Dave really was there with her after all._ _

__Eventually, she opens her eyes, pushing herself enough to see her stand. The DVDs and books have been cleared (from what Rose can see, they'd just been dumped on the floor, which makes her frown a little but, well, it's not like her room is all that clean anyway) and instead, by the lamp, sits a big glass of water and a plate of plain crackers._ _

__Rose swallows, momentarily forgetting about the lump in her throat and wincing. Dave really is going all-out at this, isn't he?_ _

__The crackers are plain enough to go down easily and the water definitely helps to soothe her throat. Even if she still feels gross and achey and hot, her headache has dulled enough to make her almost fall over in appreciation of what it feels like to be able to think normally again, and when she picks up an old favourite book of hers and settles down to read it it's almost comfortable enough that she can forget that she's sick for a while._ _

__Eventually, of course, Dave reappears._ _

__“Yo. How're you doing?”_ _

__“Better. What's the time?”_ _

__“Nine. When did you wake up?”_ _

__“A little while ago.” Rose raises the book and Dave nods._ _

__“Welp, hope you don't mind me bothering you again today,” Dave says casually, flopping down into a comfy chair by her bookcase on the other side of the room and taking out a gameboy._ _

__Rose looks at him oddly. It's true that she does appreciate just being able to read right now, and his presence there is a little comforting, but surely he has better things to do?_ _

__But things are actually starting to go kind of well now, so Rose merely nods, gives a mental shrug, and returns to her story._ _

__The pleasant silence is disturbed once more an hour later when Rose hears a knock at the door._ _

__“Rose?” Kanaya asks tentatively, head poking through._ _

__Rose raises a hand a little awkwardly. “Hello.”_ _

__Kanaya's brow furrows and she walks in, looking at Rose with concern. “Are you all right? What's wrong?”_ _

__“Just a cold. Sorry, you were probably confused by why I didn't show up last night, weren't you?”_ _

__“It's fine. Your health is more important.” She pauses, then continues. “Um, what's a cold...?”_ _

__“A minor human illness. They're pretty common, though this is...a bit more of an extreme case. Don't worry – it isn't dangerous and it'll be over in a day or two.”_ _

__“Do you need any help?”_ _

__Rose shakes her head. “Dave has already volunteered his services as nurse.”_ _

__Kanaya turns; Dave gives a little wave of his hand as well. “Yeah, just call me nurse fuckin' Strider over here. Uniform coming up.”_ _

__Kanaya purses her lips and Dave rolls his eyes. “And yes, Terezi does know I'm here. Geez.”_ _

__“Well then.” Kanaya nods, then looks at Rose again. The room goes silent and Kanaya lets her eyes linger for a few moments before dragging them away. “I will do my best to continue on the research while you recuperate.”_ _

__“Do whatever you feel is necessary,” Rose says._ _

__Kanaya nods. “Get better soon.” With that, she leaves._ _

__The room falls silent again, then Dave turns to Rose._ _

__“Uh...that was kinda awkward, wasn't it? That was totally awkward.”_ _

__Rose frowns at him, turning away so she is looking down at her book again._ _

__Being around Kanaya and Dave at the same time has always felt a little bit odd, as though she finds herself alternating between two different sides of herself, but since they broke up it's felt especially uncomfortable. They were never friends, exactly, but they had made an effort – for her? - that she rendered moot. It's a weird thing to focus on among everything else, but it's there._ _

__And this situation...something about it feels wrong. She finds herself playing over in her head that week where Kanaya had been ill and Rose had taken care of her, the tired smiles worth the discomfort of the slime and other weird troll symptoms. The circumstances are completely different now, of course, but the comparison is still a little jarring._ _

__Rose glances up; Dave is still watching her. She sighs._ _

__“What is it?”_ _

__Dave hesitates. “You never did tell me why you two broke up.”_ _

__“No, I didn't,” Rose says, but not without trailing off in a perhaps promising way._ _

__He was, she has to admit, pretty much wonderful throughout the whole thing. He didn't give advice or ask questions or demand things from her – mostly, he left her alone. It was a surprisingly thoughtful decision. Solitude gave her a chance to collect her thoughts and let out her emotions in whatever way she thought would help without having to worry about appearances, allowed her the freedom to do what was right for her, and let her continue her research enough to feel that at least she wasn't totally worthless. Even when he was around he was kind of perfect, patient and sensitive but unpatronising._ _

__Just once, she cried in front of him. He held her hand and said nothing._ _

__She owes him. She knows he does. But even if information is all he's asking for in return, that's not an easy thing she can give him._ _

__She tries to think of a way to phrase it that won't come across as terribly pathetic. But then she starts sneezing all over again and, well, sometimes being closed is the easier option._ _

__“We just weren't right for each other. It was better for both of us that we split.”_ _

__“And it seems you not telling me is something that will continue.” Rose goes to say something snarky, but after that outburst, Dave just looks kind of disappointed more than anything else, which sends an emotion right to her gut._ _

__“Look, if you don't wanna tell, that's fine. But – there's gotta be something, right? It's not like either of you exactly have many other prospects right now...”_ _

__Rose remains quiet._ _

__“Well, whatever,” Dave mutters, returning to his game._ _

__Rose returns to her book._ _

__*_ _

__Later, after Terezi crashed through the door long enough to demand that Dave come with her right now and Rose was left alone again, she halts her reading, staring down at the words._ _

__It's a short scene finishing a subplot involving the heroine's two best friends. In it the two men finally consummate their matespritship after, comedically, having tried out every other possible quadrant first. She goes to skip it as usual, but pauses, remembering Dave's earlier comment about prospects._ _

__She puts the novel aside, searching for the dusty book she picked up earlier. Here – the one with the two shirtless men clutching each other amongst a field of weird purple sunflowers. One of the first she pilfered from Karkat, it told the story of a male highblood who does everything he can to earn the enmity of a yellowblood male, only to ultimately realised that the fellow blueblood male who had been there to pester him and challenge him all along was his true kismesis. She had enjoyed it gleefully for the first few months, paying particular attention to certain later scenes, but after she finally was able to admit that she and Kanaya were going out she abandoned it completely._ _

__A big part of her just wants to throw the book away and never look at it again. She went through this already. She's sick of it. It caused her enough trouble the first time around. But doing it half-assedly is undoubtedly the reason she's even still thinking about it, so with a groan she closes her eyes and leans back._ _

__It wasn't until Rose was twelve or so that she even wondered about her sexuality. Newly-introduced to the wonders of fanfiction, she had of course thrown herself full-pelt into the LGBT rights camp, reading slash and femslash alike. Sure, when she looked back, there were hints here and there, but sexuality is complicated, and for a while Rose self-satisfiedly deemed herself 'mostly straight' to the internet at large and 'straight' to everyone else._ _

__Enter Kanaya. Kanaya, who was smart and kind and genuinely great to get along with. Kanaya, who was, without a doubt, interested in girls. Kanaya, who was actually sort of really pretty. No, not just pretty – hot._ _

__Rose wavered. She analysed, she thought. She'd gotten a little bit attached to her pet theory, proving as it did her opinion that sexuality is more than just one or the other without having to force herself to admit anything difficult about herself. There were other things, too – their friendship, and the already-clear fragility of pleasant life among these people, and just plain fear of rejection. And when the time came, something had to give._ _

__At this point, Rose probably should have re-examined herself properly. She had just spent several months alleging that she was doing so, after all. But she was, to be frank, sick of it all, and with Kanaya at her side the term 'lesbian' started sounding kind of nice. Defiant. Inspiring._ _

__Once again, Rose threw herself into it. This time, at least, there was a ring of truth. She unearthed the earlier signs like buried treasures, laughing at her many 'attempts' to 'seem' attracted to men. No, this – this word, which in one simple concept helped her feel connected to both past Earth and Alternian society more than any other – was right._ _

__Which is where the story should have ended. She is basically sixteen right now – older than her alternate mother will be when they reach the new session, if her calculations are correct. She's spent years thinking about this. To be wrong now would..._ _

__Well, would make her feel pretty stupid._ _

__There's nothing wrong with bisexuality. It's perfectly nice! It just doesn't feel like her. Not yet._ _

__And... If she really is the last one..._ _

__It would make her a little sad to think humanity ended with everyone paired off into nice little heterosexual couplings._ _

__Rose opens the book to a random page. It's a scene of seething sexual tension between the main character and the exotic, dangerous yellowblood, covered in oil from the magnificent machine he was tasked by a superior to produce. His psychic powers are of a common kind in troll romance – the ability to send and receive emotions to a phenomenal extent, even to higbloods. The two trolls stare at one another, inches away from tearing each others' clothes off._ _

__It's pretty hot._ _

__Rose closes the book, replacing it on the table, and takes up another book. A safer one._ _

__She grits her teeth at that thought, but it isn't inaccurate, and she keeps reading anyway._ _

__*_ _

__“What'd I miss?”_ _

__“Nothing,” Rose says honestly, looking up from her book and, when Dave turns to close the door, surreptitiously flicks forward a few pages._ _

__“Sorry, I was gone for a while, so I got some food.” He places a bowl on the table – some kind of soup._ _

__“Chicken. Well, cluckbeast or whatever the fuck trolls call 'em. It's from one of those coffee maker things but I tried a bit and it's not bad.”_ _

__Rose gives him a look. He shrugs. “Chicken soup? Really? My, I had no idea you were so traditional.”_ _

__“Yeah, so if you don't mind I'm just gonna sit over here knitting a blanket for you.”_ _

__“I assure you that such an endeavour would take a nigh epic determination to have finished.”_ _

__“It'll be a small blanket. A hand blanket.”_ _

__Rose sneezes again and takes another tissue. At first the growing pile in the bin Dave helpfully left for her had been of no concern compared to the fact that, oh, she could barely breathe, but now looking at it with fresh eyes is making her wince._ _

__In fact, her head is feeling much better now. She isn't sure whether it's just that the cold has reached its peak and is settling down now or whether staying awake and getting her brain working again was able to stimulate it, but apart from the heat, difficulty breathing, sneezing, and all-around achiness she doesn't feel too bad._ _

__She notices something subconsciously and turns to Dave again. He blinks at her, then retreats to his chair, taking his gameboy out again._ _

__Is it just her, or is he a little...twitchy at the moment?_ _

__She narrows her eyes._ _

__“So, what was Terezi's important thing she had to show you?”_ _

__“She found this big weird machine thing in a back room. I think she was wandering around doing her whole detective roleplay shit and looking for clues? Anyway, if you turned it on it kept churning out these little multicoloured balls, so we closed off the room and made a ballpit.”_ _

__“Really?”_ _

__“Hey, some things you never grow out of. Anyway, we tried jumping in, but they kinda mostly broke.”_ _

__Rose paused. “Broke?”_ _

__“Yeah, like – the skin was flexible, but really soft? And it turned out there was all these weird sludgy stuff inside. I actually only just got back from getting it all off me.”_ _

__“Like – slime?”_ _

__“Nah, not quite – sticky. Also it maybe had little things in it? I dunno, they kinda ran over your skin when you weren't looking.”_ _

__“That sounds frankly traumatising.”_ _

__“Yeah, I'm pretty traumatised,” Dave says, but he does twitch a little._ _

__“...did Terezi eat one?”_ _

__“She licked one at first, but I somehow managed to convince her that eating the stuff inside was a bit much. I think even she was a bit wary of it by then, though.”_ _

__Rose takes a closer look. His hair is slightly darker than usual, falling over his forehead into his eyes. Indeed, he does look as though he just showered – freshly dry and clean. If not for her nose, Rose fancies that he would smell of soap._ _

__She sneezes again, and he twitches. Yes, there's definitely something going on here. She takes another tissue and, when done, glares at him._ _

__“What is it?”_ _

__“What is what?”_ _

__“You're acting weird.”_ _

__Dave hesitates a fraction of a second – enough to fool most, but not someone who knows him as well as she does. “Uh, maybe it's because I was just covered in unidentified sludge so nasty even Terezi wouldn't touch it?”_ _

__“No, that's not it,” Rose murmurs, deliberately allowing her expression to school into full-on psychoanalysis mode in an attempt to frighten him into giving something away._ _

__It works; he glances away, stiffening slightly under her gaze. There's something he doesn't want her to know._ _

__Rose sits up properly, chewing the inside of her mouth properly. “It was when I sneezed. Are you worried about getting sick, too?”_ _

__“Rose, jesus.” Dave covers his forehead with his hand. “What the fuck even is this? You're imagining things. You're sick.”_ _

__“I don't think so.”_ _

__They glare at each other._ _

__“Even if,” Dave begins reluctantly, “I really am trying to hide something from you or what the fuck ever you think I'm doing, did you ever consider just, like, letting me keep doing that? You're so goddamn concerned about your own privacy – what about mine?”_ _

__“But this involves me, somehow.”_ _

__Dave purses his lips. “How would that change anything?”_ _

__Rose thinks. She has a response, but it's a low blow. It involves our relationship. Isn't that important to you? It is to me, and therefore it does involve me._ _

__But she hesitates too long and abandons it._ _

__He's helping her out – willingly. And yet there's something about her illness that disturbs him. Why?_ _

__No – he isn't just willing. He's outright insisted every step of the way and has gone out of his way to help her and be with her as much as possible._ _

__Why..._ _

__Her eyes widen in genuine shock. She looks him over, head to toe – well, she's not doing anything now, so she can't tell, but she's sure of it now, suddenly. It seems so obvious._ _

__He isn't disturbed by her illness._ _

__He's turned on by it._ _

__An unintentional shiver runs through her body, a line of flitting pain through her tired muscles. She swallows, momentarily lost to the world around her._ _

__Her brother, her blood brother, had been deliberately involving himself in her life just so he could experience her going through the process of a body failing. All the terrible little habits of a physical, real, weird human body going wrong – the fever and the aches and the sniffling – were pleasing to him. Her body had been behaving as no body should, frantically trying to correct its mistakes, glitching into a form that it should not be in, and he was watching with dilated pupils._ _

__It is... it is..._ _

__Gross._ _

__Rose swallows, breathing in sharply and then coughing. She feels hot all over again – a full-body embarrassment that makes her wince. Her fingers are tingling and her stomach lurches._ _

__She looks up. Dave is staring at her with fear clearly present in her eyes._ _

__Rose shakes her head, feeling light and slightly dizzy. “So that's what it is,” she says in a tone of voice foreign to her._ _

__Dave flinches, fingers tightening._ _

__Rose laughs, short and humorless, grasping for some kind of control over this situation. God, all along? Without her knowledge? Like fuck it doesn't involve her._ _

__She can't think properly._ _

__“Looking after her beloved, sick sister? I'd laugh if it wasn't kind of horrible. But I guess getting off on your sister's weakness didn't sound nearly so poetic, did it?”_ _

__You could hear a pin drop._ _

__Dave stares at her, mouth open. His early worried expression had disappeared, leaving nothing but pure shock. Rose stares, too, her brain swimming. Warnings blare everywhere, at everything, forcing her into speechlessness. This whole conversation has just gone terribly, terribly wrong and she can't figure out a way to stop it without making it worse. She fears (suspects, knows) she already has._ _

__Dave's brow shifts just slightly, a twitch, and then furrows for real, mouth forming a thin line. For the first time since they met up he looks actually, genuinely angry at her. He isn't just irritated or jealous or bitter. He is seriously pissed off._ _

__He glares at her, curling his hands into fists. “You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”_ _

__Rose stares._ _

__Dave stands up, suddenly, and makes towards the door. He opens it roughly and Rose feels something big and important leap into her throat._ _

___I'm sorry._ _ _

__The words hang in her mind for a second. But a second is all it takes for Dave to reach the door, wrench it open, and leave._ _

__Rose stares at it, swallowing thickly._ _

___Fuck_ , she thinks._ _

__*_ _

__An hour later, the headache returns. Rose tries to distract herself by reading again, but the combination of the insistent pressure in her head and her over-active mind renders the activity impossible. With a frustrated grunt, she throws the book onto the floor again, flopping face first onto the bed._ _

__Well, let's just take stock, then, shall we? She feels like shit, her brother is into her, she said something incredibly thoughtless, and she actually doesn't have any idea how to respond to any of this. Oh, and just so we don't forget, she also broke up with her girlfriend, with whom she'd been going out for almost a year, just a month ago. Wonderful. Great job, Rose, you are _totally_ taking care of your life._ _

__She doesn't know what to do. Once more, all she can bring herself to do is fervently wish over and over that none of this was happening. Everything was going so well for a while, but now that thin skin of happiness has snapped and she really, really should have prepared for it somehow._ _

__Yes, years ago, she and Dave used to occasionally play flirt with one another. That she will admit, if reluctantly. With far more reluctance, she will admit that at that age, 'play flirting' and 'real flirting' were hard to separate. There is always a touch of sincerity in the most proficient uses of irony, after all, and when you're twelve, making joking comments about being into someone is as far as flirting ever gets, anyway._ _

__But even if she thought it was serious at the time, it wasn't actually seriously, after all. She Knows it, because she Worked It Out when she realised that she was a lesbian. It was just that Dave was the sort of guy that she thought that girls like her ought to flirt with, and when he flirted with her she naturally flirted back to keep the upper hand in the conversation, and it was all just about her being an insecure kid who hadn't yet had the chance to really sit down and consider whether that was all what she really wanted._ _

__(She daydreamed, sometimes. The pictures he sent didn't give her much to go by, but the image she had in her head was that perfect mixture of a little overly cocky and a little rightfully cocky. She imagined being the one to figure out the meaning behind his words and tell what he was thinking. She saw herself taking his hand and enjoying the way he blushed because all of this affection shit wasn't cool, but he liked her too and so he didn't let go.)_ _

__Dave is different to everyone else she knows. Maybe a few years ago she could easily have grouped him with John and Jade, but now, after almost three years of separation, he's in something of a category of his own. Dave is right – three years changes people. And even if it doesn't, three years have gone and haven't been replaced. Memories have been created, details divulged and shared, and they've found their footing with one another in ways that can only improve with time. There isn't another John or Jade as there is for Dave and Davesprite, but the relationship with Dave she has now in some ways feels as different from that with John or Jade as does her relationship with Davesprite compared with Dave._ _

__She remembers him still – less and less each day. A small part of her, selfish and scared, hopes that John and Jade have found their Dave in Davesprite. A much larger part of her deeply worries that they have. The four months he was gone are small change compared to three years, after all._ _

__There's a dividing line in her life now – before and after Sburb, or more accurate for present purposes, before and after the meteor. John and Jade may have occupied her attention for years, but recent history will always seem more important, and knowing that they have no idea even of stupid things from a couple of years ago – that awful phase where she knitted for everything she could set her eyes on, or her brief obsession with this one amazing Alternian book she found deep in the back of a deserted library, or, fuck, her entire relationship with Kanaya – makes her feel more than a little sad. But while the trolls have shared that time, they can have only retrospective knowledge of her past, as even recommending a movie she loved as a kid is inconveniently impractical at the moment. Their experience of the Game, too, was radically different, and even if it was just for a single day that Rose was actively fighting it that day has had an impact on her that is impossible to quantify. More than that, the whole cultural context is totally separate. Even if they tried hard, they could never know quite how it felt to live on Earth in the time and place she did._ _

__Only Dave has been there for everything, like a steady beacon from a lighthouse, grounding her and giving her a point of reference in the sea of mist._ _

__So whenever she tries to put him into some kind of helpful relationship box, or attach a sticky 'This Is Who You Are To Me' label to his shirt, it doesn't work. It's just too weird. What do you call someone who is your biological brother, who was willing to risk his life for you and whom you risked your life alongside, who has been there for you at your side for years in a way no other human has, who you used to flirt with and are maybe, kinda, deep down, sort of a little bit attracted to? What do you call him when he's attracted to you, too?_ _

__Dave, who wears stupid shades day in and day out that you can't even mock anymore because you know he knows better than anyone how ridiculous they are. Dave, who can ramble for ten minutes about coffee, who is in a weird but actually pretty functional alien romance/friendship with a troll, who has hairy legs and oily skin and the body of a human boy. Dave, who will do anything he can to take care of you, and even if there are often shitty reasons behind it, the thought still counts. It counts for a lot._ _

__The problem, Rose is force to acknowledge, wasn't that the term 'bisexual' didn't feel right. The problem was that she didn't like the idea of abandoning her queer credentials by ending up in a relationship with a man, especially if she really was going to be the last queer human. Which is completely ridiculous, obviously. But to tell herself that, she'd have to admit that this was a worry for her. And to do that would be to admit that, perhaps, Dave was an option. Who else would be? Jade's grandpa? Even with a broadened range of possibilities than he was aware of, Dave was right - the list of prospects at the moment is woefully low._ _

__Even if she'd been able to admit, though, that there was an attraction, the option was still never there. It sat there behind a locked door for which she had no key and even if she wanted to fantasise about the contents, that was all it would ever amount to. And quite frankly, she preferred it that way. There were some times, she had read, that humans preferred to be constrained in their choices, as having too great a number of things to have to decide between was stressful._ _

__Rose quite liked living a life where she never had to seriously question whether she actually wanted to enter a romantic relationship with her genetic brother._ _

__It isn't fair. She's sick and tired and feels weak and helpless, and yet Dave keeps forcing these things on her that she never asked for. Far from empowered by the ability to decide, she feels ripped off that she was never given the choice to decide whether or not she wanted to decide. Just as Dave earlier treated her too well and made her awkward with the indignity that she couldn't even complain, now she has been locked into only a certain number of acceptable responses. And the one she really has to consider isn't, she thinks, acceptable._ _

__Though maybe, in the end, it really isn't an option after all. Maybe she's just fucked it up badly enough that even if she does have the key, Dave is standing in the doorway and will always refuse to move. Maybe it never even went that deep in the first place and it really is just a kink on Dave's part and Rose is the weird one for thinking about this at all._ _

__She doesn't know. She doesn't know anything._ _

__*_ _

__Rose clutches the blanket tighter around her, trying to breathe around her shuddering as she shivers. It's hot, so hot, and it's burning up her insides making them twist and turn and hurt, but she's dimly aware in some back part of her mind that shivering isn't good. She has no idea if the blanket is helping or hurting but she made a decision and she's fucking sick of making decisions so she's sticking with it._ _

__The floor is cold against her bare feet. Another decision. Going back now is out of the question._ _

__She's tired. Her head is throbbing. Her body hurts. She's hot and cold and both are making everything worse. She can barely breathe and every time she swallows she feels a little more like throwing up._ _

__She couldn't sleep. She couldn't read. She couldn't watch anything. All she could do was lie there and shift back and forth and think and every time she thought the guilt and the worry would eat away at her until she felt even worse._ _

__There was only one thing she could think of to make herself feel better._ _

__She knocks at the door, rocking back and forth and hoping that Dave will answer soon._ _

__He does, looking at her with an indeterminate expression._ _

__“I'm sorry,” she says, and it's a little hard to say even now but she lets the force of her desire to feel better push her onward. Waiting is only going to make it worse. “I shouldn't have said that – I'm sorry.”_ _

__Dave stares at her. She blinks, her eyes watery and her vision obscured._ _

__“Can I come in?” Rose blurts out, deliberately allowing her words out without a filter._ _

__“Sure,” Dave says lowly, opening the door and letting her walk in._ _

__Rose stands in the middle of the room, looking around. Why? She never got around to deciding exactly what she was going to do when she got here. She hoped, she guesses, that she'd just do one thing or the other and then that would be that._ _

__She turns to face Dave. He's still by the door, standing stiffly._ _

__Rose walks over, stopping only when she realises that she's standing too close._ _

__He's really, really beautiful._ _

__“Do you need-”_ _

__Rose takes his hand – smooth and slippery and hot and cold and skin, human skin, _fuck_ -_ _

__She places it to her cheek._ _

__He stares at her, swallowing visibly. She shudders, swaying forward a little._ _

__“I don't – care,” she says, the words tumbling out of her around the thickness in her throat. “I don't.”_ _

__Dave shakes his head minutely, expression set with an intensity she hasn't seen from him in years. He doesn't move his hand at all._ _

__“Seriously?” is all he says._ _

__Rose lets a warped smile, flicking a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. “Y-yeah. It's – well, it's kind of fucked up, I guess? But...well. Better together than alone, right?”_ _

__She winces – she meant to echo his words from before. But she thinks he understands._ _

__Dave shakes his head again, more forcefully. “You're not even into guys.”_ _

__Rose squeezes her eyes shut. “Um, maybe not. Maybe. I don't know.”_ _

__Dave is still hesitating. She can see herself perfectly in his shades, and the image of her, pink-cheeked and hair pushed back and greasy, eyes half-lidded, makes her energy fall through her hands to the ground for one fragile second._ _

__“Please, Dave. I just – I feel terrible.” At first she had justified it to herself – surely, by any objective measures, this is a terrible feeling? - but now she doesn't care. She doesn't care if people elsewhere have suffered more than this without complaining. She feels terrible._ _

__“I'm your brother.”_ _

__“Why do you-” Rose purses her mouth then unpurses it to breathe hard, her toes curling against the ground. “I don't _care_. I feel terrible. I just want to...”_ _

__Dave's eyebrows twitch, then he looks away._ _

__“Please. I just need something good.”_ _

__She leans towards him. She looks terrible, but that's okay, right? Dave doesn't mind. Maybe this is even better! Maybe this whole thing is actually good for one thing._ _

__Their lips touch before she's prepared. She jumps, but then leans forward again, pressing up against him. He doesn't move and she kisses again, eyes clenched shut. Then, for a moment, she thinks she can feel him._ _

__And then he's stepping away. She feels like crying._ _

__“Wh-”_ _

__“Rose.” He puts his hands up, openly pitying. She wants to punch him. “We shouldn't.”_ _

__“Why.”_ _

__Dave snorts, an unexpectedly loud sound that makes Rose jump again. “Because you just admitted you're feeling so bad you don't care that you're making out with your brother?”_ _

__“That's not it-” she attempts, but Dave cuts her off._ _

__“Sorry, I shouldn't have left you. Or not without someone else, anyway.” He puts a hand to his forehead, apparently massaging there. “Fuck. Look, can – I'll take you back.”_ _

__Rose steps away, feeling stupid and sick and tired and angry and upset and everything wrong. “I can do it myself.”_ _

__Slowly, Dave lowers his hand. If she looks through the water in her eyes, she thinks she can see him. He looks hurt._ _

__“I'm sorry.”_ _

__Rose shakes her head, grabbing at the blanket and pulling it over her shoulder again. She goes to say something but the words are gone now, the lump in her throat thicker than ever. So she shakes her head again, looking down at the ground._ _

__Dave opens the door and she steps through without him._ _

__*_ _

__After an hour or so, Rose falls asleep._ _

__Some time later, she wakes up, feeling miserable but, thankfully, miraculously, feeling better._ _

__She thinks._ _

__*_ _

__This time, when Rose arrives at Dave's door, the blanket is gone. Her hair has been finger-combed to remove the worst of the bed hair and the sweat has been washed from where it clung to her skin where it was not soaked up and cleaned by the outfit._ _

__She knocks on the door and when he opens she allows him a few moments to take her in._ _

__She's still sick. Breathing is difficult and her dramatic entrance is ruined by the occasional loud sniff. But her mind is here – there isn't anything to hide behind anymore._ _

__“You wanted to know why Kanaya and I broke up.”_ _

__Dave frowns, but indulges her scene. “Yeah?”_ _

__Rose closes the door, leaning back on it. “For a while, everything seemed perfect. We got along well, hardly fought, and had a lot of fun. But there was always something there under the surface – something I took a long time to realise.”_ _

__She looks him straight in the eye. “It took me months of dates before I was ready to admit that we were going out. I only managed to kiss her for the first time while I was drunk. You were right about all of it – it was stupid._ _

__“But it didn't end there. I resisted the whole thing every step of the way. Kanaya was patient all the while, but she shouldn't have needed to be. Everything happened on my terms – when I was ready. As long as it didn't involve me having to actually open up and be vulnerable, anyway.”_ _

__Rose licks her lips. “In the end, for all that I put on a performance, that was all it was – deep down, I was still just the same naïve thirteen-year-old who puts on a cynical face to avoid having to do things the hard way once in a while. I was a shitty girlfriend._ _

__“And that's why I broke up with her.”_ _

__Dave stares at her, expression unreadable._ _

__“What did Kanaya have to say about that?”_ _

__“Well, she was sad, obviously – so was I – but what could we do? We weren't working.”_ _

__Dave purses his lips, crossing his arms. “So you made a mistake. Big deal – that happens in relationships. Did you ever try talking about it? And what about Kanaya – did she ever try pushing you forward, or was she just always sitting there waiting for you to do stuff?”_ _

__“No, you're not getting it,” Rose says irritably, all the more so because Dave really actually sort of is. “I did try, but it didn't work. I hadn't changed at all, and as long as I was sitting there in a comfortable place I never would.”_ _

__Dave waits. Rose fiddles with her sleeve._ _

__Finally, Rose sighs. “You know what? Fine. Maybe I was too hasty. Maybe I threw away the best relationship I could ever have. But that's not the point.”_ _

__She steps forward, settling her gaze on Dave and refusing to turn down the intensity. “The point is that I'm not going to make that same mistake again.”_ _

__Dave blinks._ _

__“I love you,” Rose says, the world turning surreal for just a second. “I don't know when it happened. I had a crush on you, maybe, when we were kids, but in the years we've been together on this meteor it's...I don't know. I don't know what it is and I don't know whether you're just a one-off or whether I really do like men in general and I don't know whether this is a good idea. But I do know that I love you.”_ _

__It takes Dave several seconds to respond. When he does, his voice is low and rough. “God, Rose – you don't know how long I've wanted to hear that.”_ _

__Rose smiles weakly. “Probably not.”_ _

__Dave snorts, then takes her forward and hugs her tightly. Rose hesitates, but there's no going back at this point, so she places her hands delicately on Dave's back, then grips them tightly, pulling herself closer._ _

__He's so warm._ _

__“Just, fuck. You know what? This is it. Birthday's done. Fuck whatever you've been thinking about getting for me or making me or whatever – this is enough. Just – Rose.”_ _

__He pulls back to look her in the eye._ _

__Rose smiles. “Yeah.”_ _

__She leans in to kiss him._ _

__*_ _

__Rose smiles to herself, curling into the little ball of warmth she has ensconced herself into._ _

__The ball sneezes._ _

__Rose winces, extricating herself. “Oh dear.”_ _

__Dave's eyes stay shut, but he lets out a low groan, pushing his face slightly deeper into the pillow, breathing heavily._ _

__Rose sighs, stroking his hair. He looks, as the saying goes, terrible, and the fact that she's been through exactly the same thing over the last few days only makes her wince more. But he's here and he's warm and she can still remember his arms around her last night and she can't bring herself to feel anything but happy. “I'll get you something to drink, okay?”_ _

__“Thanks,” Dave mumbles._ _

__When Rose returns he's apparently feeling a little better, or at least a little more awake, as Dave has pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning against the pillows by the end of the bed. For once in his flash-stepping energy-hemorraging life Dave actually doesn't look very hungry, but he dutifully takes the plate of toast and picks at it._ _

__“How are you feeling?”_ _

__“You don't wanna know. Well, I guess you already _do_ know, but honestly I don't think that negates what I just said.”_ _

__“Oh, I think it corroborates the statement.”_ _

__Dave turns to her with watery eyes, hair sweaty. “Thank you,” he says in a way that is undoubtedly supposed to sound strong and grateful but which actually sounds more helpless and apologetic._ _

__“After how pissy you got at me wondering why you were helping me you have absolutely no right to act all guilty now,” Rose reminds him. “Especially after yesterday.”_ _

__Dave glares at her. Rose smiles sweetly._ _

__“Well, fuck. That just ruins all my plans for today.”_ _

__“Speaking of which...” Rose takes the package she had deftly hid under the seat when she sat down, no doubt missed by Dave only due to his tired eyes and lack of customary shades. “Happy birthday!”_ _

__For a moment Dave actually looks really surprised and Rose wilts. “Do you really think I had forgotten completely? Honestly, Dave, I might not have your time powers but some things are worth the effort to pay attention. You'd think at least I'd remember it's the day before mine.”_ _

__“No, just...” Dave pauses on his toast to flick some hair out of his eyes. She's gotten used to seeing him without shades now and then but every once in a while it still takes her by surprise, his wide eyes giving him an oddly young look. “I didn't even realise until just then. I mean, last night, but...”_ _

__“Wow. You really are sick.”_ _

__“Yeah.” He looks down at the package, taking it cautiously._ _

__“...you really did think I didn't have anything for you, didn't you?”_ _

__“I'm opening this.”_ _

__He pulls the paper apart with relish, pausing as the present is revealed._ _

__“Whoa.”_ _

__“Does it reached your vaulted standards?”_ _

__“Hell yes it does.”_ _

__Dave picks it up, staring at it. It's a Christmas sweater – a bit on the small side, but then that only adds to the appeal, Rose reasons. (And, of course, she was certain to knit a strand of hair in to ward off the dreaded Sweater Curse.) 'Happy Christmas!!' it says in brightly-coloured letters on the front atop a worringly lop-sided cat wearing a 'cutely' tilted party hat that looks as though it should be seconds from falling. There are patterns all over it – stripes at the top of the sleeves, swirls further down, and roughly bauble-shaped things on the forearms. She even managed to sew a few lights into it in strategic places, though they aren't connected to anything and so are eternally dark._ _

__“It's perfect,” Dave breathes. “No seriously – just that right amount of terrible. You didn't go too far – kept the colours traditional, no random misspellings, it honestly looks as though it's supposed to be good-” He shakes his head, voice serious. “It looks – so earnest.”_ _

__It would have been nice, Rose thinks, if the true intention were a level removed. It would suit both Rose's fondness for subtle literary symbolism and Dave's for irony if there was a complex web of intention and apparent truth, if only those with a careful eye and great personal knowledge could really discern the motivation behind it all. But, alas, that was not to be the case here. Here, the apparent sincerity represents only actual sincerity._ _

__Rose smiles. “Thank you.”_ _

__Dave puts the sweater down, frowning at her. “I can't believe you made me believe you'd forgotten.”_ _

__Rose smiles wider. “To be fair, my timing was off,” she admits. She gestures and he picks it up again. “The right sleeve – I never got around to finishing it. With a few more days, maybe.”_ _

__“Well, it's amazing either way.” He sighs. “And now I gotta make sure your present is amazing, too. Seriously, what the fuck is with that.”_ _

__“Oh, I know the feeling,” Rose says, enjoying with relish the way Dave rolls his eyes._ _

__“Movie?” she asks, and Dave nods, gesturing widely._ _

__“Sounds great.”_ _

__They choose one of Dave's weird-ass combination movies and it's every bit as entertainingly nonsensical as they expected. Dave goes quiet now and then, but with Rose at her best, he knows that any inattention to their conversation won't result in any kind of win for him._ _

__But there's something about the movie that niggles at Rose. Why is it that, even when the story is about a half-eaten sandwich avenging a slight against his lover, the main character is still a man protecting a woman? It bothers her over and over until, finally, she understands._ _

__“I don't see why the other sandwich can't just avenge herself if it's really so important.”_ _

__Dave raises an eyebrow. “Did you listen to that sentence before you said it?”_ _

__Rose turns around, finally feeling a return of a certain rush of pleasure she hasn't felt in a long while. “Yes, I did. And why on earth stupid sexist ideas have to come up even in a story about sandwiches fighting is my problem.”_ _

__She turns to the movie, her resolve hardening. “I know you think it's pointless now. But if this works... if it does, we'll be making a world of our own. And I want it to be a good one. For everyone. Not just for some people – _everyone_.”_ _

__She turns to him, eyes burning. He stares and then, surprisingly, smiles._ _

__“Yeah. Me, too.”_ _

__“...meaning?”_ _

__“I'm agreeing!” Dave says, but relents. “No, just I was thinking...you have changed. In a good way.”_ _

__Rose blinks. “Oh.”_ _

__“'Course, you were always pretty awesome, but...” He shakes his head, still smiling. “I like this Rose the best yet, I think.”_ _

__Rose returns to the movie. When she feels a smile tug at her lips, she lets it._ _

__*_ _

__When Rose comes back with some lunch for the two of them, Dave looks a little better._ _

__“It'll come and go,” she explains, placing the plate in front of him._ _

__Dave nods. “Thought so. Well, you're definitely helping it, too.”_ _

__“Thank you.”_ _

__Dave eats quickly, a habit Rose is used to but still can't help but wince at a little. “Mostly just my head and throat now, really.”_ _

__“Is that so?” Rose says thoughtfully, nibbling at her sandwich._ _

__“Is that interesting?”_ _

__Rose looks him over. He's hot and sweaty and flushed, sneezing every few minutes. He's eating more food than seems reasonable, even if Rose intellectually knows why. He's her brother – genetically, if not by upbringing, and whatever they've lacked in recognising each other as such while growing up they've more than made up in the years since. It is all, frankly, kind of gross. It's also, she admits, very attractive._ _

__She's starting to think she understands it, now._ _

__“Yes.” Well, there are other factors, admittedly. She and Kanaya didn't start having sex until a few months before the end of their relationship, but they had enough time to get into a routine. It is something that she has missed._ _

__Dave raises an eyebrow._ _

__Rose smiles. “I know it's early, but...there are ways to combat headache pain.”_ _

__“Like what?”_ _

__“Sex.”_ _

__Dave's eyes widen. He pauses. “Seriously?”_ _

__“If you're comfortable.”_ _

__“...you're okay with that?”_ _

__Rose frowns, cocking her head to one side. “Are you honestly doing that whole chivalrous act again? Because unless you've been holding out on me, I'm the only one here with any experience in that area.”_ _

__“Experience...under your belt?”_ _

__Dave sneezes. It sounds kind of adorably high-pitched. Rose sort of wants to pet his head._ _

__“That was terrible.”_ _

__“Thanks. But yeah, I guess.” He looks up, then around, then shrugs. “We really could, couldn't we.”_ _

__“Yes, Dave.” She pauses. “Unless you don't want to.”_ _

__“No,” Dave says, nodding slowly. “No, no, that is definitely a thing I want to do. That is – what you said is not what I – yeah, let's do it.”_ _

__Rose smiles, looking down at her plate. “After lunch?”_ _

__“Fuck lunch,” Dave says, reaching over to put his plate on the desk by his bed. Rose helps him, then stands above him, looking down._ _

__Dave's lower half is covered in warm, thick blankets and his cheeks are pink. He sneezes again, tiredly, blinking furiously, but there's a hint of a smirk at his lips that tells Rose all she needs to know._ _

__She lowers her head, kissing him. It's different to kissing Kanaya in ways she never expected – there's stubble, yes, and Dave is bigger than Kanaya, but his human skin is far softer and more malleable, and when he puts a hand around her upper arm, his grip is less firm. It's an odd sensation. Obviously, she thinks to herself, she is the only person to have ever kissed both a human and a troll, so it goes without saying that the experience would be incomparable. But even the closest thing she can remember, comparing kissing men and women, doesn't really work here. Yes, Dave is a man, and is both taller and broader than Kanaya. But he is also a human, and so far weaker, and with duller nails and teeth. Now, in particular, sick and below her, he doesn't at all come across like a strong, handsome, dangerous man from a romance novel. He's just Dave._ _

__And maybe, yes, there was a small part of her that couldn't help but think that being bi was like admitting defeat. Yes, yes – the self-professed lesbian suddenly converts when she realises that there is a man so attractive even gay women want him! But real life doesn't follow stupid tropes like that, and Dave is just Dave and Kanaya was Kanaya and right now all Rose wants to do is hold him down and make him scream beneath her._ _

__So, with a mental motion much like waving her hand, she pushes the thoughts away._ _

__Rose deepens the kiss, running a hand through Dave's hair. He puts a hand on her side, running it down until he reaches the slit of her clothing and then presses his fingers into the bare skin there. Although the sickness is leaving, Rose is far from recovered, and Dave's hot hand against her makes her insides tremble and sends a line of heat up her throat._ _

__Awkwardly, feeling inordinately the pain as she knocks her knee against the side of Dave's bed, Rose climbs onto the bed, kneeling over Dave. She settles into his lap, squirming against the thick material separating them. Already she feels almost like she's going to burst out of her clothing, the tight material over her legs pulling as she stretches._ _

__Dave is watching her, eyes half-lidded, breathing heavily. Suddenly he sneezes into his hand, shaking his head._ _

__“S'rry.”_ _

__“It's fine,” Rose breathes, curling her fingers around the short sleeves of Dave's shirt. He has already taken off his cape and undershirt earlier, so Rose glides her fingertip down the skin of his arm and Dave shivers._ _

__She goes in to kiss him again, sucking fiercely on his tongue, forcing his head back with her strength. His clean hand rests flatly against her back, then moves, turning and rubbing over it, as though her body heat is too much for him. In short order, Rose begins to feel lightheaded, and she wrenches her head back in an overpowering urge to breathe. Dave swallows then shudders, panting in front of her, then sneezes again, twice._ _

__“That was...interesting,” Rose mumbles, struggling to take in enough air through her mouth._ _

__Dave nods quickly, then scrambles his hand back up to the back of her head to pull her in again._ _

__Rose tries to pace them both, alternative between kissing his lip and pressing her lips against his cheek and neck, his breath burning against her skin, his sweat making her hands slip. Dave, however, always brings their mouths together again, body shaking._ _

__Finally, it becomes too much and Dave relaxes, allowing Rose to lick at his neck and collarbone. Rose smiles, placing a final kiss against his jaw and then drawing back._ _

__“Tired?”_ _

__Dave nods, head bobbing awkwardly, and the fact that he admits it is more telling than anything else. Rose feels a momentary surge of exhaustion remembering her state in previous days and sympathises, cradling his head between her hands for a moment._ _

__“Why don't you just lie down, then, okay?”_ _

__Dave nods again, allowing it as Rose tugs at the bottom of his shirt, revealing his chest, and removes it, and then gradually lowers him to a prone position on the bed. He shuffles, no doubt acutely feeling the cool, soft sheets against his bare skin. When she moves as well, the blankets – thick and woolly and slightly scratchy - pull over his stomach and he flinches. Rose pauses._ _

__Interesting._ _

__Dave has closed his eyes now, body clearly tense in anticipation of what she will do. Rose allows a wide smile to creep, unable to resist the temptation to lick her lips. Oh, yes, this will be fun._ _

__Rose leans over, letting the ends of her hair flick over his face. He flinches, breath catching. She leans in slowly, placing a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, then his lips, licking them slightly as she pulls herself back up again. He swallows, licking his lips, biting them a little, and then goes still again, mouth slightly parted, lips full and red._ _

__Rose savours the sight, thinking. It would be nice to remain clothed during this, but if she isn't going to be getting off quite soon, the heavy fabric is going to be much more of an annoyance than anything else. Oh, well – there are ways to make this work, too._ _

__She leans back, sitting on Dave's lap. Oh, yes – there's something she had honestly forgotten about briefly. Dave gasps again, and Rose rests her weight over his crotch, pressing down on it without letting him have any friction. Then she reaches for the base of her dress, pulling it over her head. Hearing the rustling, Dave cracks an eye open, but Rose stops, shielding his view with her palm._ _

__“No, I think you should keep your eyes closed.”_ _

__“What. Why.”_ _

__“Because it's more fun that way.”_ _

__Rose waits for a reply, but when she takes her hand back Dave's eyes stay closed._ _

__“Good boy.”_ _

__Dave pouts slightly, and Rose chuckles, pulling her top off the rest of the way._ _

__The minute the cool air hits her skin she sighs, wriggling her shoulders. She takes off her headband as well, oddly aware of the pressure against her scalp. That done, she leans down to kiss Dave again, letting her breasts touch his skin. He jumps, then reaches his arms up to curl around her back. She pauses, but decides to allow that provided it doesn't go any further._ _

__Once they've kissed for long enough, Dave panting again, Rose draws back, circling her finger in the air. She waits; he waits. Just when he's beginning to shift and arch upwards, Rose touches the fingertip against the soft, bloated skin of his stomach, pressing the edge of her nail in just slightly. Dave gasps suddenly, muscles spasming._ _

__“Good?” Rose murmurs, letting her breath caress him like a mist as she traces a circle around his belly button._ _

__“J-jesus...”_ _

__Dave continues to squirm against the sheets as she traces, fingers curling and uncurling, hips attempting to rock up against her. When she rubs a little circle he lets out a little choked sound and presses a fist to his mouth, flinching._ _

__“Does it tickle?”_ _

__“Little...” he breathes out, and then downright squeaks when Rose repeats the motion. “Rose...”_ _

__Rose doesn't let up, roaming her thumb in a wide arc so lightly his hair stands on end, and then when he giggles again, presses in hard at that place, forcing out a bark of laughter._ _

__“Fuck...!”_ _

__She can imagine how he feels – hot and tired and yet with that niggling sense of discomfort that Rose really, really isn't helping. He's just eaten and is doubtlessly feeling a bit too full now that his symptoms are returning, which Rose _definitely_ isn't helping. Really, she's sort of making everything worse, isn't she?_ _

__And yet Dave is, very clearly, enjoying himself. It's _beyond_ attractive._ _

__Drawing her finger away from his stomach, Rose traces a line over the hair leading down into his pants. There she taps once against the waistband before reaching up to his chest and kissing him again; Dave groans. Then, he sneezes twice, making Rose let out a cough of laughter. She swallows away the pain in her throat, instead kissing at his collarbone, then licking around his nipple._ _

__“Ffff-fuck,” Dave groans as Rose presses an almost chaste kiss on the bud. “That's really – fuck.”_ _

__“Experience,” Rose murmurs, and Dave groans again._ _

__She licks at it softly, then draws back to blow air over it; Dave jumps, back arching slightly. Rose, feeling quite pleased with the proceedings, takes it into her mouth for a moment and sucks before releasing it again. Dave again tries to buck up against her and Rose finally takes pity on him._ _

__“Since you insist...”_ _

__She moves back, placing a hand over the noticeable tent in Dave's pants. He moans something incoherent, one hand reaching out to grab at her arm and holding it tightly. It aches a little, and Rose smirks._ _

__Well, her throat isn't at all well enough for a blowjob to be an option, and as fun as this is it she doesn't quite feel up to anything _too_ strenuous, but as Rose slowly pulls down his pants and takes his dick out from his underwear, hot and heavy in her hand, the low growl make it clear that he is on board with her plan._ _

__She works him slowly at first, teasing around the tip. She may not have any _experience_ in this area, but she has read enough romance to have some idea of what she's doing. Mostly. Well, Dave is enjoying it, anyway, and she can't quite be bothered to be worried at the moment. While she strokes up and down, she kisses him again, full on the mouth, smiling at him from close up when he resolutely keeps his eyes closed no matter what._ _

__“Jesus fuck, Rose, just – don't – I thought this was-”_ _

__“Oh, dear, you can still say words? Clearly I have been slacking here,” Rose says smoothly, increasing her grip around the cock and then running her finger around his other nipple when he gasps._ _

___“Fgnnnnahhg.”_ _ _

__“Much better.”_ _

__Even as she pumps harder Dave continues to groan out unintelligible sounds, from gasps to rumbles to high-pitched squeaks and everything in between. He is quite delightfully vocal, Rose decides, as she runs her hand up while taking a particularly strong suck of his nipple, causing him to cry out loudly._ _

__He's panting harder than ever, whole body wracking each time she pumps him, and Rose can tell he's close. She abandons the nipple (to a short sob of protestation) and bends down close to his ear, letting her hair tickle his cheek._ _

__“Go ahead,” she whispers. With a loud cry, Dave comes, back arching._ _

__Rose smirks, withdrawing upwards. Dave is breathing heavily, utterly exhausted where he is lying on the bed, eyes still closed._ _

__Rose takes a corner of the blanket and cleans them both up, involuntarily licking her lips as Dave jumps when she touches the scratchy material to his still-sensitive cock._ _

__“...ffffuck. Uh. You?”_ _

__It takes Rose a few moments. “Oh, it's fine – it was for your sake anyway. Was it sufficient, by the way?”_ _

__“God yes. I take it back – _this_ is the best birthday present.”_ _

__“Oh, no. This is just the beginning.”_ _

__Dave makes a gurgling sound. Rose giggles._ _

__“...but seriously.”_ _

__Rose hesitates. Dave is clearly very tired, but now that that's over she really does have a rather urgent need... Well, she thinks, he would undoubtedly be irritatingly pouty and put-out if she finished without him._ _

__“Here.”_ _

__She takes his hand, lowering her tights and guiding it to the right places._ _

__“Ah...yes, here.”_ _

__“There?”_ _

__“Yes...”_ _

__His fingers are clumsy and obviously he doesn't know very much about sex in general or her body in particular, but for a guy sick and half-asleep, he's impressively earnest. By the end, Rose cheats by mapping two of his fingers to her own and guiding them herself, but Dave doesn't seem to care by that point. With a choked cry, Rose ruts against his fingers a last time, finally coming._ _

__She sits there, above him, for a few moments and then smoothly takes his fingers away, allowing them to fall to the bed. He lets it fall, body stilling._ _

__“Thank you.”_ _

__“N pr'bl'm,” he mumbles._ _

__Rose pulls her tights up again, retrieving her top – now that it's all over the air is rather cool. When she returns Dave is clearly almost asleep, his breathing slow._ _

__Rose smiles, pulling the blanket over him again and smoothing it. She puts a hand on his hair._ _

__“If you need anything, just ask, okay?”_ _

__Dave nods, and then suddenly cracks an eye open._ _

__“I'm gonna haveta do even better tomorrow, aren't I?”_ _

__“I have always enjoyed the way the dates work out,” Rose agrees._ _

__Dave sighs, shaking his head, but there's a bit of a smile on his face._ _

__And if his sleeping is jerky and uneven, and if Rose is forced to go to sleep early as well when her own sickness catches up with her, and if they don't manage to do more for this day and the next than sleep and watch movies and have sex..._ _

__Well, at least they're together. It's all Rose has been able to rely on in the past, and for now, she can believe that it always will be._ _


End file.
